


My Do's and My Dont's

by heavyheart



Category: One Direction
Genre: F/M, HIMYM AU, M/M, You've been warned, also niall is fucking adorable in this, and a proposal???, and harry falling in love with people too quickly, and lots of ziam fluff if i have anything to say about it, and louis being irresistable, i don't know what this even is to be completely honest, lots of bad jokes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-05-30
Updated: 2013-05-30
Packaged: 2017-12-13 11:28:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/823776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heavyheart/pseuds/heavyheart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>HIMYM AU in which all they really need is each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	My Do's and My Dont's

**Author's Note:**

> OR, the chapter where Harry steals a blue trumpet, Zayn and Liam have been in love since day one, Louis doesn't get kissed, and Niall just wants Harry to wear a suit.  
> -  
> So, based off of How I Met Your Mother, meaning the plot is kind of carbon copied. So all credit to the show and a special thanks to the boys for letting me put them in my own little universe for entertainment. Hope you enjoy this fluffy mess of a first chapter

Harry and Liam were the perfect pair through college. Liam wasn't a big drinker, hadn't ever been, and Harry valued his studies a little bit too much to waste time on parties and hangovers and all of the other things that college kids were supposed to enjoy, but they made their own fun. Sure, studying until two in the morning and then grabbing a coffee from the student cafe before heading out to drive around aimlessly for a few hours with the music blasting out of Harry's shitty little car might not be considered fun to other people, but it was plenty for them. A while back, they'd tried dating each other, but it ended in Harry giggling like a madman on their couch after a kiss that was too friendly to move forward. In the end, it had only brought them closer as friends, and, as they like to refer to one another, brothers. 

That is, until Liam nearly ruins everything by falling for Zayn. 

And Harry loves Zayn, he does. Zayn is the most layered person Harry's ever met, which makes him undoubtedly interesting. When Liam had first met him, he was all douchey snapbacks and skate boarding, until he got over that phase and grew into one that made him full of smirks and leather jackets and blonde streaks through his naturally black hair. Harry can see why Liam had fallen in love though, during the moments when Zayn lets his guard down and giggles into Liam's shoulder or when they argue about a comic book character and which movie in whatever series is the best. It was as if Zayn understood the parts of Liam that Harry never has, like he fills all of Liam's holes and stitches up any parts that had been broken before. They're perfect for one another, and anyone can tell, Harry included, that this is it, they're going to be together for the rest of their lives. 

Which is exactly what Harry's thinking about, sitting around in his trackies on the couch of his and Liam's shared flat, when Liam decides he's going to pop the question.

"Do you think I'm crazy, for asking him to marry me?" Liam scratches at the back of his head as he talks, and Harry knows him well enough to know that his mind is spinning in circles, over thinking and over analyzing every bit of the situation.

Harry tugs on his best friends arm until Liam has no choice but to collapse into his lap, curled up muttering about stupid decisions and moving too fast. 

"Li." Harry thwacks him on the back of the head to get him to shut up, shifting around so he's able to look him in the eye. "Of course I don't think you're crazy. You're the most sensible person I've ever met. If you think it's time, it's time."

Liam nods, then, clambers out of Harry's lap to get up and pace the floor again before he exhales and lets his shoulders slump. "It's just, I'm nervous."

"Nervous? But, Liam, it's _Zayn_." Harry follows him into the kitchen where he's pouring himself a glass of water, distractedly letting it run over the rim until it overflows into the sink. "It's gonna be fine, I promise. I've been there for everything with you two, so I would know. Through your first date,"

"When he tried to teach me how to long board and I fell on my ass." Liam interrupts, a smile etched onto his face. He's turned the water off, now.

"Yeah," Harry continues. "And your first kiss, in the movie theater during Iron Man 2, that was a classic."

"I spilled my drink all over him." Liam's grin is so big he looks like he's about to burst. 

Harry sits down at the tiny kitchen table, feeling satisfied. "See, exactly. This is just another first. It's... kind of insane, Li. You're getting  _engaged_  tonight." 

Which, is great. Liam looks happier than Harry's ever seen him, and he's happy for him too, but it just makes him think about the state of his life, which is, admittedly, kind of pathetic. So after he's coaxed Liam out of his nervous jitters, he calls Niall, because next to Liam, Niall is kind of the greatest person ever, aside from the part where he can be a complete jack ass sometimes. 

"Harry, hey," he answers. There's lots of muffled talking in the background that Harry can't quite make out. "You know how I've always had a thing for half Asian girls? Well now I have a new favorite. Red heads. Everyone's always saying they don't have souls, but, you don't need a soul to be attractive, so. I need a red head."

Harry has to contain his eye roll as he ignores Niall's spiel, because he'll have a new "thing" next week, and Harry can't really keep up with him. "Want to do something tonight?" He asks instead.

"Ya, meet me at the pub in fifteen minutes, and suit up. Like, with a suit." He hangs up before Harry's really able to get a word in, and well, if that doesn't just sum up most of his life.

See, the thing about Niall is that he just doesn't give a shit, about anything. Well, okay, he does, he cares a whole hell of a lot about rugby and his lads, but apart from that, he kind of just does whatever he wants. Sometimes, it's refreshing. Other times, Harry realizes that he might have gotten himself into something incredibly stupid. He has a feeling today might be the latter.

It takes him a half hour to get to the pub, because there is such a thing as traffic, and showering, and trying to find something that could pass as a suit without being a suit. By 'the pub', Niall means the hole in the wall place a few blocks down from his and Liam's flat. They've sort of made it into their home over the years, which, yeah, might sound a bit pathetic, but it's nice. They have their own booth, practically. 

"Mate, where is your suit?!" Niall seems a little put out by the fact that Harry isn't wearing an actual suit, which makes Harry laugh before he covers it up with his hand.

"I don't get why I have to wear a suit when you tell me to suit up if you've never worn one in your life," he says as he settles into the stool next to Niall. Since it's just the two of them, they've opted for sitting at the bar.

Niall huffs out a breath. "Suits should be your thing. Suits would look good on you. I look sexy all the time, so it's like, not necessary, yeah?"

Which might be true, actually. Niall is good looking, but in a cute, frat boy sort of way. He's got dyed blonde hair and red cheeks and a good body, from what Harry's seen (which is all of it, due to an incident during their Junior year of college involving a lot of velcro-removable clothing), but he's not Harry's type. Which is good, because Niall is the only one of them that's actually straight. Well, Zayn could really go either way, and Liam only has eyes for Zayn so who even knows, but Harry, well, he's gay. 

Harry steals Niall's beer and takes a swig of it. "Ever since college it's been Zayn and Liam and me. And now that he's proposing, it's like," he lets out a dramatic sigh. "It's gonna be ZaynandLiam and me. They're gonna do stuff like adopt and move out and like, what if I become that weird middle aged guy their kids call 'uncle Harry'?" He's motioning with hands, trying to explain to Niall how much he hates the thought of this, because he does. Being alone sounds awful.

Niall hits him on his forehead with his palm. "Stop that. Remember what I told you the night we met?"

And Harry does remember, of course he does. It had been one of the only parties he'd went to during his college years- he'd been much more into art shows and concerts and still is, really- and Niall had come, sat next to him, and told him two things: that if he wanted to succeed in life, he needed a suit, and to not think about marriage until the age of 30. Considering Harry was only 24, he still had a ways to go.

"6 years left, mate. Then you can start worrying about it." Niall slaps him on the back, as if it's all fixed.

"I know, I know. I guess it's just, my best mates settling down, I feel like I have to do the same."

Niall steps away from him, looking slightly offended. "I thought I was your best mate! Harry. Harry, say I'm your best mate."

Harry rolls his eyes. "You're my best mate, Ni."

"Good." Niall seems satisfied with that. "Now let's get drunk!"

-

Liam's doing dishes when Zayn gets home, trying to clean up after himself as he gets ready for what's hopefully going to be the biggest night of his life so far. He knows that he doesn't really have anything to worry about- he's been with Zayn for as long as any of them can remember, and he knows that Zayn is every bit as in love with him as Liam is, but, it's a hard thing to process sometimes.

"Hey Li," Zayn says when he walks in, a hand around his waist and a kiss on the back of his neck. "You're cooking?"

Liam turns around and captures the other boys' lips in his own, smiling through the kiss. "Yeah, that okay? I'm making spaghetti." He holds up the spoon he's been using to stir the sauce with proudly. "It's going rather well, actually."

Zayn chuckles, taking over the sauce and turning the knob on the noodles down lower. "As long as you don't burn your eyebrows off again, I'm fine with you cooking for me. Looked a little weird on you."

"You said I looked cute," Liam says, a little indignant, but loses his train of thought as he watches Zayn cook, his skinny, tattooed arms moving gracefully as he manages the three things currently cooking on the stove. "How was work?"

Zayn shrugs, wiping a hand on his trousers and grabbing for the salt. "Oh, you know. Tried to teach them something valuable, read a little bit of Dickens. But, Tommy Fisher and Craig Johnson are still assholes that won't shut up, so. Just another day at the office." If Zayn weren't smiling as he spoke Liam would have no idea how happy teaching a high school English class actually made him, but his lips are turned slightly upwards in amusement so Liam figures he probably doesn't hate Tommy or Craig all that much. 

"Sounds normal enough," Liam murmurs, dipping a finger into the sauce. It's a lot better than when he was in control of it. "I'm fine here Zayn, I know you want to shower and get out of work clothes. Don't worry, I'll manage." Liam kisses him on the cheek and then shoo's him out of their tiny kitchen, because he can't really have Zayn cooking their proposal dinner. Even if he's the better cook.

-

Harry's sitting with some guy Niall's set him up with, stuffed into one of those crammed two person booths no should use, ever. He's got a big neck and a strangely beefy body that Harry kind of wants to poke at. He's decidedly not Harry's type in the least, but, he's good conversation. 

"It's just we're only 24 and he's already getting married, you know? Well, he's 25, but still." Harry's explaining, taking a swig of his water bottle. He has a bad habit of turning conversations with strangers into therapy sessions.

The guy, who's name Harry might have already forgotten, nods his head. "Do you think you'll ever get married?"

"Me?" Harry shrugs. "I mean, maybe. Haven't thought about it much... but it'd be like, small. Outdoors, preferably, and we'll write our own vows, cause it's complete shit when people don't do that. White flowers. Summer time. But, you know. Who knows if I'll ever settle down." He twirls his straw around in his glass. "Like I said, haven't thought about it much."

The guy is laughing at him now, nervous chuckles, and Harry feels his eyebrows furrow together. "'m sorry, god, nothing hotter than a guy planning out his own wedding." 

He seriously needs to get laid.

-

Liam presents Zayn with the bottle of champagne when he gets out of the shower, smile wide because everything is perfect. The table is set, the food plated so it looks like one of those fancy restaurants they've never been able to afford, and he's even lit a few candles. The champagne is just the final touch, because that's what you do after you propose to people, you toast with champagne. He hopes.

"This looks really nice, babe. What's this all about?" Zayn takes the champagne without looking away from Liam's eyes, his gaze slightly concerned. "Is something going on?"

Liam has it all planned out, is the thing. He knows which side of the table he's going to kneel on, knows that he's going to do it after they eat but not before dessert, has all of his words carefully selected because Zayn deserves the absolute best on this night, and he wants him to remember it well. But Liam also wants to ask him so badly his head hurts, that he can't think straight, so he fumbles inside the pocket of the hoodie he's wearing (he hasn't even changed yet, shit) and produces a box.

He kneels down as he watches Zayn grow a little more confused. "I have a whole plan. My idea was flawless, really, but now you're here, and you're amazing, and. Zayn Malik, will you marry me?"

Zayn's got tears rolling down his cheeks by the time he manages to choke out a "Yes".

-

Harry ends up turning the guy from the pub down, which he feels bad about, but. He has this dumb idea in his head that when he meets 'the one' he's going to know it, and that guy wasn't giving off anything positive for Harry other than good taste in beer, so he'd had to politely declined his offers. Harry's got his priorities, even if no one else understands them.

"It's just," he's trying to explain this all to Niall, who probably isn't paying much attention to him at all, from the way he's eyeing the red head sitting across from them. "I mean I know that I don't want to settle down yet, and like, sure, Liam's found the love of his life. So it makes sense. But even if I was ready-"

"Which you aren't." Niall cuts in.

"But even if I was, it's like, okay, where is he?" Harry takes a joking glance around the pub, as if he's going to find the love of his life in this run down hole in the wall. That's when he sees him. 

He's got bright blue eyes, which is kind of a thing for Harry, and he's leaning up against a booth a few feet away talking to a girl with long brown hair who's laughing at absolutely everything he says, and Harry can't breathe. 

"Niall," Harry nudges him without taking his eyes off of the man, afraid he'll disappear. "do you see that guy?"

Niall glances over at him, shrugs. "Looks like he'd be good in bed," Niall starts waving his arms above his head until the guy looks over at them, confused, and Niall says, a little louder than necessary, "have you met my mate Harry?" 

He looks adorably confused as Niall walks in the opposite direction after pushing Harry to stand in front of blue eyes, before he's whispering something in the girls ear that makes her laugh, again, before walking off.

"Hi." Harry says, because Niall told him to.

Up close, he can see he's a lot better looking than Harry had thought. He's wearing a pair of tight black jeans and a white t shirt advertising some footie team he doesn't, stretched tight across his chest, a soft jean flannel hanging off his shoulders with the sleeves rolled up. His hair looks like he pushed a hand through it to angle it upwards and then just kind of left it, which worked wonderfully, sparkling eyes, and an amused smirk settling over his thin lips as he watches Harry. "I'm gonna guess you're Harry, yeah?"

Harry can feel himself blushing. "Yeah, that'd be me."

Fifteen minutes later they're sitting down in the booth that him, Niall, Zayn and Liam usually share, talking over a few beers. His name is Louis, and Harry thinks that he just might be in love with him. 

"So what do you do, when you aren't hanging out in the slums of London?" Harry jokes, and it isn't funny, but Louis laughs. Which is, you know. New.

"Well, not much. I'm a news reporter for BBC, I guess. Nothing big, just the fluff pieces for the weather and stuff, but. It pays the bills." He shrugs like it's not a big deal, but Harry can tell from the swell in his chest that he's worked hard to get where he is.

"I'm an architect, but there isn't much exciting about it to be honest." Harry decides not to try to get Louis invested with his projects like he does will Niall, Zayn and Liam, because they have to love him, and Louis looks about ready to leave, with the way he's waving over at the brown haired girl with an apologetic smile on his lips. "You should get back to your girlfriend, though, she's probably-"

Louis cuts him off before finishes with an amused sort of laugh. "Eleanor is _not_  my girlfriend." A slight flush colors Harry's cheeks with the way he says it. "I should, however, get back to her. She's having her mid-life boy crisis of the day, and all."

"Well would you- I might be completely off base, but would you maybe want to get dinner Friday night?" Harry's hands are shaking, which is just, odd, because he doesn't really  _get_  nervous. 

Louis' smile is a little too dazzling for Harry to handle. "Unfortunately, I'm off to Yorkshire for the week for some piece my show's doing on their wildlife park. Which is only the slightest bit exciting because I really love Meerkats, and they have them, and now I'm rambling."

"What about tomorrow, then?"

"Tomorrow?" Harry swallows at Louis' slightly panicked expression as he says it. "Ah, yeah, actually. Tomorrow could work."

~

Their date goes well, but nothing like Harry had been planning. He takes him to Rosso Restaurant, which has been one of his favorite places to eat (ignoring the fact that any plate costs him a year’s worth of rent) for as long as he can remember.

What Harry hadn't been anticipating, though, was Louis. Louis with his loud laugh and sly comments and childishly sophisticated attitude when talking to their waiters. Louis, who sees the painted blue trumpet on the wall and whispers, "we should steal it", and then protests with stomping feet when Harry won't let him.

Louis, who fits all of Harry's criteria for the perfect boy like a glove, which he repeats to Liam and Zayn in the living room afterwards. How the perfect boy has to have at least gone to ten concerts in his lifetime (because live music is a necessity many people seem to lack appreciation for), which is proved when Louis guilty shares stories of getting wasted at multiple concerts for The Script and having to be carried out, as well as a plethora of other days that he won't go into detail on. How the perfect boy needs to appreciate good wine, preferably be shorter than him (which Louis is, by nearly half a foot), and Harry has always had a thing for blue eyes. He even fits into Harry's olive theory, which he tells Louis about when they're on their second glass of wine and both smiling loosely at one another.

"You don't like olives?" Harry asks again, just to make sure he's hearing right, as he takes Louis' plate and scoops the black and green orbs onto his own salad. 

Louis smiles, a bit confused. "Is that a bad thing?"

"No, fantastic, really. See, alright, I have this theory, that me and my mates Liam and Zayn came up with. Zayn hates olives, he cannot stand them, but Liam loves them, and in a way it's like, that makes them fit better. So, you not liking olives is good, because _I_  think they're great." He pops one into his mouth, showing Louis his dimples around the food in his mouth.

 And a lot of people would have been freaked out by Harry's odd little spurts of affection and his open demeanor, but Louis seems to bask in it, asking him questions about himself until Harry things he might have told Louis every single thing there is to know, until he gets to the question that makes Harry's heart feel a little twisted in nerves.

"Do you want to maybe come over to mine, afterwards?" 

Harry says yes, of course, because he's mostly convinced that Louis is his soul mate. Unfortunately, by the time they reach his apartment, he's getting calls for an 'emergency fluff bit' across town (which is a total contradiction, in Harry's mind, because how can fluff bits be an emergency?). When Louis leans in to kiss him goodbye, though, Harry ducks over and kisses him on the cheek because he's a complete fucking idiot and Louis makes him nervous as hell. 

"So you chickened out?" Zayn asks him, once Harry's returned home from his date and retells the entire event to the both of them.

"No, I just want it to be, erm..." He runs a hand through his hair. "Right."

Liam laughs at this, because, well, Harry's kind of an idiot. "Fairly certain that just means you chickened out in different words, Harry."

They get like this sometimes, Zayn and Liam, where they team up and make Harry feel like a complete idiot, so he does the only sensible thing and calls Niall to back him up. 

"Meet me at the pub in fifteen, and, Harry- suit the fuck up."

Harry doesn't, of course, but the three of them head down and settle into their booth next to Niall, who scoffs at Harry's jumper with a judgmental eye roll. 

"You should have just kissed him," Niall's saying, throwing up exasperated hands. 

Harry drops his head into his hands and groans, because none of them get it. "It's not that simple! He's amazing, and terrifying, and he's  _funny_ , okay? It's not simple." Harry can feel a comforting pat on his thigh from Liam.

Niall rolls his eyes before leaning over the table and planting a kiss on Liam's lips, eliciting a surprised squeak from the boy and a fit of laughter from Zayn. Harry just sighs and crosses his arms over his chest, wondering why he ever picked this lot to be friends with. "First of all, Niall, you're straight, and that's  _Liam_. Anyone can kiss Liam because he's so in love with Zayn that it doesn't even matter! This is different."

Liam's wiping off his mouth with the back of his hand, looking entirely scandalized, when he shoots a glare at Harry. "No, it is so not okay to just kiss me because I am unattainable. That's off limits. Forever."

"Maybe I should have kissed him." Harry bangs his forehead against the table as the realization kicks in. He knows that ducking out of it was an asshole move, and that if anyone had ever done that to him he would laughed in their face and not looked back. It's just, Harry isn't used to being intimidated by people, and certainly not by pixie like, bouncing boys like Louis, but he was, and he is, and he cannot believe he didn't let Louis kiss him. "You know, it's whatever, I'll just kiss him when he gets back."

Zayn takes a swig of his beer. "And when is that?"

"In a week. I'll just kiss him in a week."

Zayn and Niall both snort at him this time. "A week?" Niall starts in. "He's going to forget you even exist in a week if he's anywhere as hot as you say he is."

"He is." A long, drawn out sigh. 

It's only twenty minutes later, once they've all had a round of beers to celebrate Zayn and Liam's engagement (which Niall is totally and completely against in the sweetest, most loving of ways), that Harry see's Louis on the TV above the bar. He looks incredibly happy to be speaking into the microphone, wearing a lightly blue button up that shows off his tattooed arms. "Guys," Harry nearly shoves over one of Liam's water glasses trying to get their attention. "Guys, that's him. That's Louis."

"Turn up the telly, would you, Josh?" Zayn asks, and all of a sudden Louis' voice is surrounding them.

"...urged him to reconsider, at which point the man came down off the ledge, giving this bizarre story a happy ending. From BBC1 news, this is Louis Tomlinson. Back to you, Tom." He does a curt little smile before the camera pans over the city and the bridge behind him. Harry's throat feels thick with want. 

"He's really, really hot." Zayn notes. "He is totally your type. What the fuck are you still doing here?" 

Harry hesitates for only a second before he stands up, straightening out his blazer and steeling his shoulders. "I'm gonna go kiss him. Like, right now. I have to take the leap, which is exactly what that guy Louis was talking about couldn't do."

Niall cackles at this comparison, throwing his head back and letting out a loud guffaw of a laugh.

"Okay, shit, that was not the greatest metaphor, because I want to jump into love and marriage and children and he was jumping to his death, but. Still. I have to go kiss him, yeah?"

Twenty minutes later finds them all in a cab rolling towards Louis' in the slow traffic; Niall, Zayn and Liam stuffed comfortably in the back while Zayn ponders why the hell they're all going with Harry in the first place.

Liam runs a hand through Zayn's hair and says something about 'moral support', which is total bullshit, because Niall really just wanted a show. But Harry is giddy and nervous and is pointedly ignoring their presence as he instructs the cab driver to pull over outside the Rosso, because Harry is big on romantic gestures, and Louis wanted the blue trumpet. Louis stomped his feet over the blue trumpet. 

Harry steals the blue trumpet and narrowly escapes being tackled by the security guards before he dives back into the front seat of the cab and tells the driver to step on it. Zayn and Niall are impressed and Liam, of course, is telling Harry that he is mildly  _insane_ , and that he should bring the trumpet back immediately. The cab driver keeps driving, though, and Harry does not protest.

-

By the time they reach Louis' apartment, it's well past midnight. Zayn is drooping onto Liam's shoulder in the back and Harry's hands are shaking so much he keeps nearly dropping the trumpet onto the dirty floor of the cab. 

"Moment of truth," Niall's saying, and Harry knows he's nervous for him because he's biting his nails in anticipation. 

"Kiss the shit out of him, Harry." Zayn mumbles, forcing a bubble of laughter from Harry as he turns around.

Facing Liam, he exhales. "You have to remember tonight, Li, for when you're our best man at our wedding. You have to remember when I chased him down with a blue stolen trumpet to kiss him. Okay?" Niall huffs out a low ' _you told me_ I _was your best mate_ ' that everyone chooses to ignore, and then they're pushing him out of the cab, the driver included.

He rings the doorbell, because Louis is probably asleep, and this is probably rude, and he's got a blue fucking instrument tucked under his arm and Harry has no idea what the hell he's doing here. 

Louis leans out of a window on the second story. "Harry? What the hell are you doing?" It's not unkind, he says it more in an amused, slightly taken aback sort of way. He's got a plan black t shirt on and the collar dips low enough that Harry can see some words tattooed across his chest, which only makes his heart beat faster. 

"I was just... yeah, it's me. I have..." Harry pathetically holds up the blue trumpet. 

"Come on up."

Harry's mistake is made after twenty minutes of easy chatting and joking around and finding a place for the horn to go on Louis' wall. Harry's hovering by the door, but they aren't making any move for him to go, just standing there looking at each other like they're in some stupid (but amazing) rom com.

"I like your eyes." Harry says, because he does. 

Louis chuckles. "I like your voice. It's not what I expected, very deep." He smirks. "Manly, even."

"I love you." And okay, Harry is not an idiot. He does not love Louis, not yet anyway. He is just insanely affectionate and Louis' lips are very close to his own and shit, he cannot believe he just said that. 

Louis' smirk is a little more alarmed than charmed now, but only by a bit, certainly not enough for what Harry's just said. "You- you  _what_?"

"I wish I could tell you that I am not completely insane but I probably am. I don't love you. I mean- I do, love you, but I-" Harry pulls at the door handle because his hands are shaking and he is such a complete and total idiot, honestly. "I should go, I am going. This is me, leaving your house. Going."

He's out on the street when he realizes the cab isn't there, which he isn't really surprised about, because Zayn gets cranky when he's tired. What does surprise him, however, is turning around to see Louis standing in the doorway of his flat, sweatpants slung low on his hips and arms crossed to fight the chill of the night. "You didn't kiss me." Louis says, and it's quiet. 

Harry feels his shoulders slump. "I can't, because you're amazing. Like, really fucking amazing, Louis. And I've just told you that I love you after our first date, and that is not amazing. That's weird. I can't kiss you, cause I am not amazing."

Louis bites his lip and returns inside, after that, and Harry thinks it's okay, because he's right. Louis is bright and sunshine and Harry is all awkward limbs and clothes that were basically free from the thrift shop down the block. It's okay, because when he gets back to the bar, his three best friends in the world are waiting up for him to tell them the story, and Zayn and Liam are going to get married, and Harry will have his moment. Louis might have been too good for him, but Harry's time has to come around sooner than later. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on tumblr [here](http://ziamo.tumblr.com) by the way. Feedback is honestly always, always appreciated.  
> (still wondering what the hell I just wrote)


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